Stranger Things Have Happened
by jeevesandwooster
Summary: It's friday the thirteenth, and people are acting a little peculiar. Goofy fluff based on the Freaky Friday concept, just cause we felt like it. HouseCameron of course.


Friday the 13th is here. Yay! I love this day. Today, (no lie ) a transformer blew out and I got the perfect excuse to spend an hour playing poker and reading a 'Jeeves' book. I took this as a sign to write a fluff one-shot fanfic featuring House and Cameron on this bizarre day. Enjoy everyone!

Disclaimer: Not mine…though it is possible…weirder things have happened on Friday the thirteenth….(pleasepleaseplease)

Stranger Things Have Happened 

"You know, House, you are the single biggest asshole I have ever met!"

She glared at him, not even aware of the stares she was getting from her colleagues. He was, though, and they were all amused.

"And you're stating the obvious because?"

They were in The Hing Dragon, a tacky, crappy little Chinese restaurant close to the hospital. Dr. Wilson had invited them all out to dinner to 'have some fun outside of work for a change'.

… House knew he shouldn't have come.

They had been eating for about ten minutes when he'd made the mistake of commenting on the way Dr. Cameron used her chopsticks.

"No, hold them like this..." he reached over and arranged her fingers around the sticks. "Eating with chopsticks has a sort of ... finesse to it. You can't just jab the stick into the food and run. You're more of a 'long-term relationship' type girl anyway. Not like me, I'm more of a 'Wam, Bam, Thank-You Ma'am' type." He lowered his face to whisper in her ear, "but maybe you were thinking about me while you were eating them?"

That had been the last straw.

"You know, House, you are the single biggest asshole I have ever met!"

Now he was in the middle of a crowded restaurant, surrounded by his colleagues with a twenty-something doctor glaring holes through his insides.

"You like fortune cookie?" came a voice at his elbow, he looked down to see a little old woman proferring a plate. Grateful for the distraction, he grabbed one while everyone else scrambled for one as well, gleefully tearing them up for their fortunes.

"What's yours say, Cameron?" asked Wilson, trying to change the subject, as amusing as it was, for the sake of his friend.

She looked at it. "'Be wary of your pursuits, lest the hunter become the hunted' That's an odd one. I wonder what it means?"

"You know," said Chase, "I heard somewhere that all fortunes make more sense when the words 'in bed' are added to the end. Observe." He snatched House's from his hand. "' Look on the bright side of things'…in bed. See?"

"I dunno Chase," said Foreman, "somehow the idea of House doing _anything _in bed is unlikely."

"Especially looking on the bright side of things," agreed Chase wholeheartedly.

But things were looking rather bright as Dr. Gregory House awoke the next day. The sun was shining through his window, and for once, the sun in his eyes inspired him to get out of bed and face the day, rather than squint and grumble as he reached for his vicodin. In fact, he completely passed over the bottle, despite the pain in his leg, and decided he felt like a nice hot shower before work to start his day. As he was washing his hair, he suddenly realized he was whistling.

And the song was "I'm Walkin' on Sunshine".

"WTF?" he thought, and then shrugged it off. Why question when you were happy for a change?

Allison Cameron, however, was not in the sunniest of disposish. She had woken to the usual serenade of a jazz playing wolf on her bedside table that served as her alarm clock. For once, she wanted to simply push the snooze alarm and go into work just five minutes late. When she couldn't readily find the snooze button, and the wolf was still wailing on his plastic saxaphone, she ripped it out of the socket and threw it against the wall. Outside, songbirds were chirping. She wished she had a shotgun.

Drs. Chase and Foreman were very nervous. Obviously, something had happened to their sweet Cameron this morning. She had stomped into the room ten minutes later than usual, taken her mug out of the cabinet, poured herself some coffee and sat down without so much as a good morning. When they asked how she was, she had responded with an uncharacteristic acerbic glare. They were a little uneasy.

It wasn't until House walked in that they became truly terrified.

This was not Gregory House. When he walked through the door, he was….well….singing. Not just any tune either. He was singing, "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma. He broke off from the song only long enough to wish them a similar morning.

"Well what's so goddamned beautiful about it?" Cameron asked, to the shock of her friends.

"Well hello to you to Cameron. Yes I am doing well today. Thank you so much for asking." He smiled warmly at her as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Well, I have to head down to the Clinic," he said, cheerfully waving to them, "Don't you have clinic duty too, Dr. Cameron?"

"I think I'll skip."

"Tsk, Tsk…Cuddy won't be too happy with you."

"If she finds me"

They both left the room. Chase and Foreman looked at each other, and scrambled to get out the door to try and find a place where things made sense.

There were a lot of people in the clinic today. It was almost hard to maneuver around. There weren't a lot of patients in there to be sure, but the place was crawling with a huge crowd of people trying to get a view of the craziest thing they'd ever seen in their lives…

Dr. House giving the kid he'd just examined a lollipop.

That was only the latest in a bizarre string of events that had slowly drawn a large portion of the hospital to this one space.

He had smiled reassuringly at a mother, good naturedly waved off a guy's stammered apologies for hurling on him, let a young girl play with his stethoscope, and offered some Kleenex to a hysterical girlfriend, all in the past two hours.

In the face of this, no one noticed that Cameron had avoided her clinic duties…except for Dr. House.

"Dr. Cameron, wait!"

She turned around, exasperated.

"I'm going home."

"To your House?" he inquired teasing.

"My House? Won't you ever stop toying with me? You've told me you don't like me." She turned to leave, irritated with him.

"Camer—Allison!" he rushed after her, suddenly needing to know something. "Please, I was worried."

She looked at him, slightly impatient.

"About what?"

"I thought that you couldn't possibly like me. I told myself that if I opened up to you, really cared, you would get bored and leave me."

"So you're saying you want to go to your apartment and have wild sex with me?"

"Uh…." _Goddamn it _he thought, _why couldn't he think of a snide comment? _"Actually I just wanted to…needed to know. If I tell you I love you, will you stick around?"

She looked at him. She couldn't figure out why she wasn't crying and leaping into his arms. Something was wrong here. Something was VERY mixed up. They were both acting so…out of character, like they'd fallen under a bizarre arrangement of the stars.

"Do you, uh, wanna go for a ride? The 'Vette's pretty sweet." He was so nervous, he really wanted her to come. _What happened to protecting her from you, you idiot?_

_This was a bad idea. _"Yeah. Why not?"

They were driving down the road with the top down, the cool air whipping through their hair. She was upset, and nervous. He was excited and nervous. They'd driven a few blocks without saying anything when finally he asked her. "What's been up with you today? Did I do something?"

She looked at him. "I have no idea…" and then it hit her. It was a stupid idea, but…"Isn't it Friday the thirteenth?"

He looked at her, and laughed. "What? Are you saying that those fortune cookies last night caused us to switch personalities like in that one movie?"

"Do you have a better explanation?"

"No." He grinned at the idea of it. "Well, the way they got back to normal in the movie was by thinking the same thought at the same time."

"Somehow…I don't know if that's strictly possible."

They sat in a bemused silence for a while, until.

"What did you mean by 'If I told you I love you'?"

He looked up at her, "It's kind of self-explanatory."

She looked at him. "I've already told you I like you. This may be the one day in which you're…open enough to tell me anything. So can you say it once and for all, so we can go have that wild sex I mentioned earlier?"

He looked straight at her with those dazzling blue eyes, knowing he'd regret it when his usual cynicism took over, and said exactly what she needed to hear. "I love you, Allison."

She smiled at him, somehow unable to repeat the words for him. Her new-found personality could allow her to give him one thing.

"Ok then. Your apartment or mine?"

They'd gone to his. It was closer and it had less stairs to climb. They had barely made it to the bed. At some point in the night, amidst the tangled sheets, they looked at each other, and both thought, at the exact same time, "I love you."

The next day, they awoke. House turned to look at the woman asleep beside him. He didn't quite feel like skipping out of bed and whistling, but he didn't quite feel like downing a vicodin right off the bat.

Cameron opened her eyes to see him smiling at her, and couldn't resist smiling back. She could hear birds singing in the background, and she was glad they were happy enough to sing. But she didn't think for an instant they were happier than her.

"You know," he said, "I think Dr. Chase might have been right?"

She looked at him worried, was his personality still screwed up?

"Everything _does_ make more sense when you add 'in bed' to the end."

She grinned. He was back to being his snarky, crude self. She wouldn't have it any other way.

"So," she said as they both got ready for work, an hour late and in the same clothes they'd worn the day before, "do you think we have a chance of sneaking in unnoticed?"

"Who knows?" he said with a smile, "stranger things have happened."

The End

Hope you all enjoyed this one-shot thingamabob. It was fun to write. Not exactly quality literature or anything, but we felt we had to do at least one crappy holiday special to call ourselves writers. Please review!


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